Page 67 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

VESPER

The ballroom looks like someone threw up money and called it elegant.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, gesturing at the ridiculous champagne fountain dominating the center of the room.

“That monstrosity has Jeremy’s name written all over it in shiny, gold leaf lettering.

” I haven’t spotted the man himself yet, but he’s probably somewhere in this glittering circus, kissing ass like it’s going out of style.

“Oh my God, is that actually an ice sculpt?—”

“Vesper.” Kovan’s hand finds my elbow and spins me to face him. His green eyes hold a warning. “Breathe.”

“I will not breathe!” I cry. “Look at this obscene display. That bastard could have funded the pediatric ward for the next decade with what he’s spent on tonight alone. He’s burning through piles of cash while children suffer with broken equipment, and everyone’s acting like this is normal.”

“You get used to these things.”

“Who does? I don’t! No one should!” I stop yelling and squint at him. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t. I can’t afford for it to bother me.” Kovan’s thumb traces a circle against my skin. “Your world isn’t that different from mine. It’s all politics and power games, no matter where you look. Someone in the shadows is always pulling shady strings.”

The word Keres flashes through my mind before I can stop it. I’m supposed to forget about them. I promised Kovan I would. But lately, the name keeps surfacing at the worst moments.

Tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight was supposed to be about us—whatever the hell us means anymore.

I’d like both the Keres and Jeremy Fleming to stay the hell out of it.

“I’m sorry.” I force myself to exhale. “I just can’t stand seeing this much excess when kids are dying because we don’t have proper equipment.”

“I know.”

My gaze drifts to the crystal place settings, the gleaming cutlery, the gilt-edged plates. “The rental fees for this hotel ballroom alone could have bought us a new CT machine.”

Instead of answering, Kovan takes my hand and pulls me toward the donation table in the corner. His grip is firm, purposeful.

“Kovan? What are you doing?”

He doesn’t respond, just guides me to where a board member named Isabel Avery sits behind a table covered in glossy brochures. She’s wearing a black sequined dress with a neckline so conservative it hides everything from her collarbones to her chin.

I try to hide behind Kovan’s broad shoulders, suddenly self-conscious about my plunging neckline. At least with him as a distraction, maybe no one will notice how much skin I’m showing.

“Good evening,” Kovan says, flashing Isabel a smile that makes me want to hiss like a jealous alley cat in heat.

Her cheeks turn pink. “H-hello,” she replies to him. She must be over sixty, but she’s eyeing Kovan like she’d like to ride that roller coaster, please and thank you. I pretend I don’t feel a pang of white-hot jealousy.

“I’d like to make a donation.”

“Oh! Wonderful.” She fumbles with her donation forms while Kovan reaches for his checkbook. “Any amount is appreciated.”

“But where does the money actually go?” I interrupt before I can stop myself.

Isabel finally notices me. Her eyes widen by degrees as they travel down my neckline. “Dr. Fairfax. You look… different.”

I blush, but I don’t let myself get distracted. “There should be transparency about fund allocation, don’t you think?”

Her gaze flicks nervously to Kovan. “That’s a board decision.”

“That’s a cop-out?—”

“Sweetheart, please.” Kovan’s voice punctures my growing anger. He’s still smiling at Isabel. “Mrs. Avery, I’m sure you’ll be happy to help with my special request.”

Isabel blinks rapidly. “Special request?”

Kovan pulls out his Mont Blanc pen. He writes across the check with deliberate strokes, then tears it free and slides it toward her. “This donation is earmarked specifically for the pediatric wing.”

I catch sight of the number and nearly choke. “Kovan?—!”

“Oh my goodness.” Isabel stares at the check like it might bite her. “This is very generous, but… but I’m afraid donations are processed by the board. They decide allocation.”

Kovan leans forward. When he speaks, his voice is soft but carries an edge that makes Isabel shrink back. “This ten million comes with non-negotiable conditions. If it doesn’t go directly to pediatrics, I’ll take it back—with interest.”

She swallows hard. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll go fetch Jeremy. Then she nods and slides the check into her envelope. “I’m sure the board will make an exception for such a generous donation.”

“I thought they might.” He rises and tucks his pen away “Thank you for your cooperation.”

I manage a satisfied smile in Isabel’s direction before Kovan whisks me away toward the bar.

“Ten… million… dollars.” I’m still reeling. “I can’t believe you just?—”

“Nothing’s too good for you. I’ll keep showing you that until you decide to believe me.”

We claim two empty barstools with a perfect view of the board’s table. Half the room is staring at us now, and I can practically hear the whispers starting.

I’m still stammering, though. “But—but—you’ve already done so much?—”

“You deserve everything I can give you.” He signals the bartender. “Two champagnes.”

The certainty in his voice makes my chest tight. Like it’s not his opinion, but a simple fact: You deserve everything I can give you. Do I?

I study Kovan’s profile as he orders, trying to decode what this all means. Is this part of our arrangement? Or something else entirely? Something new?

Across the room, three cardiologists are watching us with expressions I’ve never seen directed at me before. Usually, they look at me with pity mixed with professional disdain.

Tonight, they look envious .

“Friends of yours?” Kovan follows my gaze.

“I don’t have friends here. Just Charity.”

“Right. Charity.” His fingers find a strand of my hair, brushing against my bare shoulder. “Remind me to thank her for making you choose this dress.”

I frown. “How do you know I didn’t pick it myself?”

“Because you hate being the center of attention, and this dress was designed to stop traffic.”

The accuracy of his observation unsettles me. “How do you always read me so easily? It’s kind of annoying.”

“You’re my girlfriend.” His thumb glides along my collarbone. “It’s my job to know you.”

The word girlfriend hits differently than it used to. I can’t tell if he means our fake relationship or the real thing that’s sprung up in the cracks.

“There’s Jeremy.” I spot him near the silent auction table, sporting what looks like a new Rolex. “The bastard.”

The moment Jeremy sees me, the smile disappears from his face. He nods awkwardly, then turns to force more conversation with the woman beside him.

“You really did a number on him,” I remark. “He looks like he’s about to shit his pants every time he makes eye contact with us.”

Kovan’s smile has a predatory edge. “It’s what I do best.” The smile vanishes as his gaze shifts. “Who’s the guy behind him?”

“Michael. He works in pediatrics with me.”

“If he keeps staring at you like that, he’s going to need reconstructive surgery.”

“Kovan.”

“I’m serious. I’ll give the mudak three seconds to look somewhere else, or I’m walking over there.”

I cup his face, forcing his attention back to me. “Look at me instead.”

His expression softens as he lets me turn his face toward mine. Slowly, the possessiveness goes out of him. “Hard to look anywhere else when you’re this beautiful,” he murmurs.

My heart clenches inside my rib cage. The need that’s been building for days is getting closer and closer to a breaking point. God only knows what’ll happen when we get there.

“Would you dance with me?” I ask.

He stands immediately, offering his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The dance floor opens up around us as Kovan pulls me against his chest. His hand settles low on my back, possessive and warm.

“Everyone’s watching,” I notice.

“They’re watching you .” His breath tickles my ear. “Can’t blame them.”

“You’re not exactly invisible yourself, Mister.”

He spins me out, then draws me back against him. For a moment, the crowded ballroom fades. It’s just us, moving together like we’ve done this a thousand times before.

The memory of his kiss earlier burns on my lips. Soft at first, then deeper, more desperate. A kiss with no audience, no performance required. Just for him. For me. For us.

That’s what gives me courage.

“You kissed me before we left tonight,” I remind him.

“I did.” His eyes shimmer with amusement.

“No one was watching.”

“I’m aware.”

“So why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to. Because you look incredible. Above all, because I’m only human.”

His answer doesn’t satisfy me completely, but I’m committed now. “When you helped with Jeremy, you said you’d give me what I needed.”

“Yes.”

My palms are sweating against his shoulders. “But what about what I want ? Will you give me that, too?”

He frowns quizzically. “What do you want, Vesper? Tell me and it’s yours.”

This is it. The moment where I either save myself or destroy everything we’ve built.

“I want you .”

“You have me.”

“I have your body when it’s convenient. When it serves the arrangement.” My voice drops to barely above a whisper. “But I want more than that, Kovan.”

The music continues around us, but we’ve stopped moving. He’s staring at me with an intensity that makes my hands shake.

“I want us to be real. Not just for show and not just for the custody case.” I take a quivering breath.

“I want you to want me the same way I want you. Completely.” I swallow and charge on, because there’s no turning back now.

“I know this breaks our deal. I know it’s messy and complicated and probably stupid.

” My fingers curl into his tuxedo jacket.

“But I can’t keep pretending anymore. I want all of you, Kovan.

The whole mess. Not just the parts you’re already willing to share. ”

He’s quiet for so long I wonder if I’ve ruined everything.

Then his hand comes up to cradle my face. “Vesper?—”

“You don’t have to answer now,” I blurt. “Just think about it. Please.”

But even as I say it, I know I’ve crossed a line we can never uncross. Whatever happens next, nothing will be the same again.